


Blue Ribbon Blues

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fill, Silly, but no sillier than the films
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson wonders who's groaning, among other things. Written for JWP #13.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Ribbon Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: No crackier than the films, but that's not a high bar to clear. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a complete rush. You have been warned.
> 
> JWP #13: Fun with Language. "Very sorry to knock you up, Watson". Take a line from the original Canon that may have a drastically different meaning now, either from its Victorian origin or that means something different in another English-speaking locale such as the U.S., Canada or Australia, and run with it!

_'I was blue ribbon at that time, and we were putting a little money by, and all was as bright as a new dollar. My God, whoever would have thought that it could have come to this?’_ – The Adventure of the Cardboard Box  
  
Someone was groaning. It was a most unpleasant sound, and I wished the unhappy fellow would quit making such a noise, as my head was pounding fit to kill.  
  
Upon reflection, I realized that _I_ was the one groaning. I made a heroic effort, and not only silenced myself, but managed to open my eyes. The world appeared very blurry, but I recognized enough of the chaos around me to put a name to it. Baker Street.  
  
Another groan sounded in my ears. After double-checking to ensure that I was not the source of the noise this time, I forced my burning, still-fuzzy eyes to scan the sitting-room. Eventually I managed to pick out Holmes. He was sprawled half-on, half-off the sofa, and was indeed the one now groaning. He was also wearing a ladies’ gown, complete with a full petticoat of frothing lace visible thanks to the overskirt being rucked-up around his knees. As I watched, Holmes fell the rest of the way off the sofa, and sat up with a gasp.  
  
Dumbfounded, I hastily looked down at my own attire. I was relieved to see my usual clothes, if decidedly dirty, rumpled, and in need of repair. The only other unusual aspect to my clothing was the large blue silk ribbon rosette affixed to my lapel. Squinting, I realized that a large gilt number one sat in the center of the ribbon arrangement.  
  
I had absolutely no idea what it meant, or any memory of how I’d come to acquire such a thing. In fact, the only thing I could remember was Holmes and I leaving Baker Street, heading for a waterfront dive where the notorious Jamie Savage had been seen by one of Holmes’ Irregulars.  After that…nothing.  
  
“Holmes?” I asked quietly. “What happened to us?” I gestured at him, and then myself.  
  
Holmes’ dark eyes flickered over me, concern melting into confusion and a hint of mirth.  “My dear boy, I haven’t the faintest idea. Except that whatever occurred, you evidently won first prize.”


End file.
